Frustrations
by A. Windsor
Summary: Discussion about the baby's surname pushes Callie over the edge.


Title: Frustrations

Author: A. Windsor

Pairing/Characters: Callie/Arizona

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My one semester of law school could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it's pretty useless. So please don't sue; it's not mine, I'm just playing!

Series: Zeq!verse, but totally stands alone.

Summary: Discussion about the baby's surname pushes Callie over the edge.

Author's Note: The muse, she is... active and in a very weird mood. And YES, more _Kiss the Girl_ will be up as the week goes on. Beta'd by the wonderful roughian.

* * *

"No. _Hell no_."

She's given Mark a lot of latitude; Arizona would say (has said) too much, but she's given it, for better or for worse. But cranky and giant and still ten days from her due date, Callie finally sees Arizona's side of it.

"A kid should have its father's last name."

Arizona, whose eyes had been wide with shock from both Mark's suggestion and Callie's swift negative response, looks absolutely apoplectic at that. Callie puts a hand on her forearm to keep her from murdering the baby daddy.

"Oh, _shut up_, Mark," Callie complains. "Our baby has three parents, two of whom are women, so you better quit this macho, chauvinist bullshit. We're all very proud of you for stepping up and being a dad, we really, really are. Especially since you never did that for the perhaps dozens of half-siblings this baby has running around. But this baby is a Torres."

Mark gapes at the low blow, and Callie might regret it just a little bit, but she presses forward, because while the rational part of her brain knows it takes two to tango, today she's blaming the manwhore for her swollen ankles, and achy back, and the fact that love of her life spends a good deal of her time looking either purely terrified or terribly sad. (Callie notices that, under the super perk. She acts like she doesn't, and she really doesn't want to, but of course she notices.)

"And this is _our_ baby, not your baby. You're its dad, not God. And I'm the one carrying it in my uterus for, let's face it, ten months. You know what you did to get this baby here? You _got off_, Mark. That was your reward. You don't get a parade and a medal for your swimmers powering through. So just, please, shut up."

"Cal, I-"

"And while we're on the subject, learn to freaking knock. We never just barge into your apartment. So: new rule. You get to keep your spare key in case of emergencies, but you knock. Every single time."

"Okay, fine, until the baby gets here."

"No, Mark. Every time, without fail, for our foreseeable future, unless you have a very good reason to believe someone is dying on the other side. Do you understand?"

Mark opens his mouth to object, but Callie keeps on going.

"And obviously you didn't hear this the multiple times Arizona said it, which is another issue altogether, but _we_ are in a relationship: not you. I'm really sorry that you're really lonely, I am, and I'm sorry that this baby has ruined your chances with Lexie, but maybe you need to focus more energy on getting her back and less on inserting yourself into every aspect of our lives. This baby is going to be here in, please god, no more than ten days, so this is real and this is happening, and you don't even have a crib. We are not married, Mark; I turned you down. We are raising this baby together but we are doing it in separate homes, and maybe it's not all picture perfect and ideal, but those are the consequences of our actions and we're freaking going to live with them, okay? This is our home. That's your home," Callie points across the hall. "Get it?"

Mark's face hovers between devastated and mad as hell.

"Now I am tired and hormonal and I would really, really just like to spend some time with my girlfriend, okay?"

"We're talking about this later," Mark orders.

"We're talking about a lot of things later," Callie allows, still pointing firmly to the door.

Mark leaves, giving one final incredulous look at the fuming mother of his child and slamming the door, just a little bit.

Callie stands, breathing deeply, staring at the apartment door for a few seconds before turning to Arizona, whose mouth is still almost comically wide open and hasn't moved a muscle from her place at the bar stool, a little scared that doing so will wake her up and prove this was all a wonderful, fulfilling dream.

"Are you okay?" Callie asks gently, a complete one-eighty from the raging goddess that just eviscerated Mark Sloan.

"Wavering between very shocked and very, very turned on. Give me a second."

Callie nods, slipping (or as close to slipping as an orca whale can get) onto the other stool and reaching a tentative hand to the top of Arizona's wrist.

"Wait: he proposed to you?"

"Yeah," Callie admits, sheepishly. "I don't think he really meant it. It was more of an 'Oh shit, I knocked her up' reaction, I think."

"And you said no."

"Of course I said no, Arizona," Callie laughs. "You were waiting for me across the hall. McSteamy and his super sperm don't hold a candle to you."

The emotion flushes prettily across her cheeks, and Arizona raises her eyes to meet Callie's.

"Please don't talk about his sperm."

"Sorry. But it is half the reason our baby is on the way."

"Our baby," Arizona repeats, barely above a whisper.

"It is still our baby, right?" Callie asks, suddenly vulnerable. She knows she asks this question too much, but maybe her display of pregnant woman insanity was enough to change Arizona's mind about the whole thing.

"After that? I'd say it's _finally_ our baby. Calliope, do you know how long I've waited for you to say any of that?"

Callie blows out a breath. "It was a little mean."

"It was," Arizona concedes. "Necessary, though. And all I've wanted all along is for you to stick up for us."

Callie favors her with a soft smile, reaching over to brush a strand of her very long hair out of those devastatingly blue eyes.

"I love you," Callie says, remembering her renewed commitment to saying that until Arizona believes it without question. "I was so focused on being the neutral third party. And I'm still on the baby's side, before everything else, but Mark's thirty-three percent stake is in the baby, not in our life."

"Why now?"

"It feels so real now. More real every day. We're going to be parents. And I've had a lot of time to think, since Lucy pretty much restricted me to desk duty and consults. And none of us are ever going to be happy if we're trying to pretend like three people raising a baby isn't complicated. I think it's time to get serious about it. I was trying so hard not to hurt Mark's feelings, but it's time. It's time for custody agreements and ground rules and-"

"Boundaries."

"Yeah."

"I totally agree."

"I guess that means I'm going to have to have a really ugly conversation with him, because he's really not going to like that."

"I could make a few calls, get some advice from a friend of mine who's a big family law attorney in Baltimore."

Callie makes a face. "I'd like to keep the lawyers out of it as much as possible. But I'll keep it in mind."

"Can't hurt to see how you can protect yourself. And Mark can protect himself."

"What about you?" Callie frowns.

Arizona sighs, wondering if her girlfriend really doesn't know the answer to that, if she really, truly hasn't thought about all of that.

"Calliope," she says, as gently as possible, trying to keep all the frustration and resentment out of her voice. She stands, moving around the island to start tidying from dinner. If she has to look at Callie while they talk about this, she won't be able to keep from crying. "I don't have any rights to protect. Apart from any of the legal ramifications of being gay, the law only recognizes two parents, so as long as Mark's in picture, I can't be. Legally speaking. And that would be the same if I was your boyfriend and not your girlfriend."

Arizona doesn't even have to turn around to feel the remnants of Callie's little bubble shattering around her. She closes her eyes and focuses on loading the dishes into the dishwasher.

"Arizona..."

Callie's voice holds the premonition of tears soon to come, and Arizona swallows hard, willing herself not to join her.

"I'm so sorry," Callie breathes, the hitch in her voice signaling the arrival of the tears.

"It's not your fault; you didn't write the laws," Arizona tries so very hard to be flippant.

"Look at me," Callie begs.

Arizona turns around slowly, wiping her soapy hands on the dishtowel and eventually meeting Callie's watery eyes. A few tears escape and slide down Callie's face, and Arizona is suddenly regretting bringing it up and breaking her Calliope's heart.

"I'm sorry I slept with Mark. I'm sorry I got pregnant."

"Stop, please, don't."

"It wasn't cheating, and I obviously didn't mean to, but it hurt you," Callie presses forward. "And I'm sorry that a small part of me was a little glad it hurt you, because you'd already stomped on my heart. I'm so sorry that this isn't how it's supposed to be, I really, really am. I'm sorry that I can't really regret it, because that would mean regretting and resenting our baby, and I never can. I'm sorry that I need you so much that I can't let you go. I know it's not fair. It's selfish for me and the baby to want you in our lives."

"Calliope, please."

The tears have hit Arizona now, and she hugs herself around the middle.

"But I do. I really do. We do. And I hope you want us, too."

"You know I do. I just-"

"Maybe the law will never recognize it," Callie finishes, "But you're going to be this baby's mom. As much as I am. I'll know it, and the baby will know it, and goddammit, Mark's going to know it if I have to actually beat it into him."

"Okay."

"Okay," Callie says, a sigh of something close to relief. She wipes at her face fruitlessly. "Now I'm way too fat, so get your skinny little ass over here and hold me."

Arizona is around the island in record time, arms around Callie in a desperate need to get as close as humanly possible. The next few minutes are a blur of whispered devotions and unhindered tears, until they're sick of crying. Arizona pulls away, and Callie brushes those warm red cheeks with her thumbs to get rid of the tear tracks that mar the porcelain skin. Arizona gives her a tentative smile and does the same to her before leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips. Later, she intends to rip her clothes off, but right now, she just wants to be close, their child pressed between them, kicking at, given their proximity, both of his moms' kidneys.

"It likes it when its mommies are close," Arizona teases, grinning at her own cheesiness, dropping a hand to soothe the skin of Callie's belly through her shirt, feeling the staccato rhythm of their son or daughter's movements against her hand.

"The better to abuse us both," Callie laughs, a kiss to Arizona's temple, to the sticky rise of her cheekbone, to the corner of her mouth. The last is rewarded with a gentle press of Arizona's lips to hers.

"Maybe the baby's middle name should be Sloan," Arizona speaks up, somehow pulling them back around to the discussion with Mark about names that started all of this.

"Really?" Callie asks, shocked.

"Well, he does deserve part of it, and otherwise he's going to want a bigger role in picking the first name, and I really don't want that. That one should be decided totally equally. I don't want a Marcia or Marcus, Jr."

"Oh no. Good point. Okay. Tomorrow I'll have a nice long talk with Mark about names, and boundaries, and... custody. You're welcome to join me."

Arizona pulls a face before taking a deep breath.

"If you need me to be there, I will. But it might be better if the first round of those talks were just between you two. I have a feeling there will be many."

"Okay. I'll take round one, then I'll call in the cavalry."

"Tell him I'll help him assemble his crib," Arizona sighs.

"I love you," Callie says again, eyes watering.

"I love you, too, my beautiful hormone casserole. Now let's get you off your feet."

"And into bed?"

"I think that might be arranged."

"What about some ice cream?" Callie asks hopefully as Arizona leads her back to the bedroom.

Arizona rolls her eyes affectionately and drops Callie's hand.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go get some ice cream from the freezer if you promise to be wearing less clothes when I get back."

"Totally a deal."

* * *

fin


End file.
